


Holiday Fights

by Majesty_Clark



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Dadgil, Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:41:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28411071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Majesty_Clark/pseuds/Majesty_Clark
Summary: Vergil is shit at communication, but I don’t think anyone is surprised to hear that. Inspiration hit me with the description of Doppelganger being that it is a reflection of the true self.
Relationships: Dante & Vergil (Devil May Cry), Vergil & Doppelganger (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 69





	Holiday Fights

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t think there’s any trigger warnings I should put up here, but if y’all think there should be leave a comment and I’ll edit it in up here. 
> 
> Also I usually don’t tag characters unless they show up, but since Nero is brought up a lot here it felt appropriate to tag him. 
> 
> Enjoy y’all.

The old phone was nestled between Vergil’s shoulder and his ear as the person on the other end finished speaking. Pencil scratched against paper. He set down the pencil and grabbed the phone handle. His voice was a calm contrast to the storm raging inside him.  


“Three packs of demons are terrorizing Sea Breeze City.”  


The voice on the phone crackled through, “Yes. They’ve been here for a couple weeks now and the demon hunters here haven’t been able to deal with them.”  


“Understood. Payment is upfront. We don’t do this work for free.”  


A scoff came through on the other end of the phone, “I’ll pay anything to get rid of them so I can get back to my business. Just get it done within the next few days.”  


Slight agitation at the last remark had Vergil narrowing his eyes at the phone. As if they had any right to be telling him what to do. Still he grabbed the feeling and shoved it down into the raging storm inside him. His voice was cool as they discussed the rest of the details as well as how best to reach them. The phone clicked back into its place on the desk and Vergil left the torn out notes where Dante would see them. The old shop floor squeaked in various places as he resumed his pacing around the room.  


There had to be a way to fix what he’d done.  


Apologizing outright was the only thought that came to him.  


And doing that had only earned him a door slammed in his face.  


The look of disappointment on Nero’s face before the door closed was so clear.  


The storm pushed itself to the surface. Emotions spiked up his spine. He paused his movements and focused on keeping it under control. The emotions fought back. They spiked even further up his back. His breath came out shaky. He reached into the thundering pool and grabbed a familiar feeling to latch on to. Anger renewed his strength. He was in control. Everything else was pushed down and away. They would only hinder him in his search for a solution.  


The anger was pushed back into the growing storm. It would only hinder him too.  


The next few breaths came out even. He resumed his pacing.  


There had to be _something_.  


He didn’t want his relationship with his son to end like this.  


No matter how much he thought though he couldn’t think of any other possible solutions.  


The less solutions he thought of, the stronger the storm grew.  


Sharp ringing struck through his awareness. His eyes landed on the source and he walked over to the desk. Flipping the notebook over to a new page, he grabbed a pencil in one hand and the phone with the other.  


Vergil answered, “Devil May Cry.”  


“I’m going to be home in an hour or two,” his twin’s voice filtered through, “You better have a good explanation on why Nero’s so pissed at you when I do.”  


A continuous beeping, turned into a drawn out one following Dante’s words. He’d hung up on him.  


Vergil slammed the phone back into its place. He braced the desk with his hand and leaned over it. His blood was live electricity in his veins.  


Of course Nero would tell Dante.  


Why wouldn’t he?  


His brother had been in his life much longer than him.  


Of course he trusted Dante more than him.  


A sharp snap resounded in the room. He looked at his right hand. Half of the pencil rested in his hand and the other half laid on the desk. Vergil picked up the piece that had broken off and threw its remains in a nearby trash can. Rummaging in the left drawer of the desk, he threw a new pencil near the notebook. The pens had been tempting to grab, but he’d learned his lesson. Cleaning up a broken pencil was much easier.  


The thrumming of his blood mixed with the indignation running through him.  


The _**audacity**_ of his brother.  


Dante hadn’t even waited to talk. He’d just assumed he was in the wrong.  


What if it had been Nero who was wrong?  


Did his brother really trust him that little?  


The pacing in the room was more akin to stomping as time went on. Thoughts swirled and pulsed with a different type of anger than before. By the time the front door was opening, Vergil wanted a fight.  


He crossed his arms at his twin’s arrival. Anger thumped in time with his pulse.  


Dante was as carefree as usual. The door closed behind him and he wore a lazy smile. It didn’t match his tone of voice, “So what’s the new plan on messing up your relationship with your own son?”  


Vergil felt his hands tighten around where he held his arms. The fire within him synced with his words, “It seems you’re already well versed on the topic. You don’t need an explanation from me.”  


“No,” that lazy smile didn’t leave Dante’s face, “I’d love to hear what bullshit excuse you’ve got for this.”  


The threat of violence permeated the air.  


Vergil uncrossed his arms and felt the sheath of the yamato summoned into his hand. The familiar feeling soothed some of his rage, “I don’t owe you any explanation. You’re wasting my time.”  


A flash of red and Dante had his own sword thrown across one shoulder. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes said otherwise.  


Fighting in such a small space was generally a bad idea, but Vergil didn’t care. He wanted to destroy something.  


Reaching inside past the storm he grabbed the power within himself. With his free hand he brought it up to the right half of his face and casted it off to the side. Cyan demonic power followed his arm and reformed on the edge of his periphery into his Doppelganger.  


Dante dropped into his own stance and Vergil shifted to make this fight a reality.  


Transparent cyan blocked his way.  


Vergil scrunched his eyebrows up at his doppel. He hadn’t told it to move.  


Something wrapped around his arms and restrained them to his side. Before he had time to look at what was holding him his face was being smooshed against his doppel’s chest. Warm blue arms against his back kept him there.  


Shock held him in place. What was it doing?  


Dante’s laughter shook the surprise out of him. Even through the blue of his doppel’s form he could see his brother throwing back his head as he laughed. Vergil felt heat at the back of his neck. He pulled against the restraints holding his hands in place and pushed back with his feet out of the embrace. The doppel didn’t budge and neither did he. Vergil could see Dante hunched over with his arms braced on his knees, not making any sounds as all of him shook. Knowing what would follow, Vergil desperately tried to push out of the hug. He leaned his head back away from his doppel’s chest. The small victory encouraged his endeavors.  


A clawed hand on the back of his head pushed him back against warm cyan. He tensed at the sharp inhale from his brother’s direction.  


The laughter was loud, rambunctious, and completely Dante.  


Embarrassment heated up his face. Shame rolled in with each new wave of laughs from Dante.  


The hand holding his head combed slowly through his hair. More embarrassment crawled up his neck at the pleasant sensation. The arms holding him were sincere, powerful. There was a certain gentleness in them that he wouldn’t have expected from his doppel. He squeezed his eyes shut.  


The flimsy veil he’d created was being shredded by the storm within. Pieces came floating to the surface and pressed on his chest.  


The anger from the verbal fight earlier in the evening between Nero and him. The disappointment in himself. Coming back to the shop early because Nero wouldn’t allow him back in the house.  


Struggling to learn all of the new technology in the world since he’d left. None of it came easily to him. The building frustration that had led him to turning down Nico whenever she graciously offered to teach him.  


There was so much about the human world that he didn’t understand.  


Dante would tell him to ‘use his common sense,’ but any time he did someone would tell him he was wrong. None of the norms of demon culture had a place here. His experiences couldn’t help him in his new human life.  


He didn’t know what he was doing.  


That was the most infuriating part.  


Power couldn’t help him here. He was alone.  


“Hey…”  


Vergil opened his eyes to Dante reaching out to touch his shoulder, but not completely following through. The joy at his expense wasn’t present on his face.  


Dante’s words were even, serious, “Are you alright?”  


“Yes.” More heat flooded over Vergil at the audible crack in his voice. He twisted his head the other way so that he didn’t see his brother. Between grit teeth he bit out, “Go away.”  


He was trembling and his cheeks were wet.  


When did he start crying?  


His doppel’s hand still moved softly through his hair. He rankled up the rampant emotions. Once they were all together he pushed them back where they belonged.  


It didn’t work. They just came over him again in less intense waves.  


He barely stopped the tears he felt building up again.  


“You really shouldn’t bottle it all up. It’s just going to get worse later.”  


Vergil felt his hands clench from where they still couldn’t move from his sides.  


“Shut. Up.”  


“Don’t get mad at me because I’m right!”  


Another retort was crawling up his throat when two more arms wrapped around him. Dante’s head fell on his back.  


Dante’s voice was a little muffled, “Just let it out bro. You’ll feel better.”  


Even if his throat wasn’t tight he wouldn’t trust his voice right now.  


More tears started to fall.  


Everything was just out of his control.  


They stood there holding him as Vergil cried more than he had in years. He felt every emotion he’d tucked away to deal with later. When he thought there was no more, another one popped out and more tears came with it.  


Eventually though, they stopped.  


Ratty breathes tried to fill the empty void in his chest. The arms holding him were firm throughout it. His doppel had stopped petting his hair and simply rested its palm on the back of his head. Holding him close.  


Another rattling breathe in.  


The pressure around his arms let up. He glanced down and saw a cyan tail drift back behind his doppel.  


Each new intake of air brought clarity to his mind.  


Dante’s head lifted and his arms unwound themselves from around Vergil. A hand pressed on his back where Dante’s head had been.  


“Meet me in the kitchen when you’re ready. Okay?”  


Vergil nodded in response. The hand left his back and footsteps signaled his departure further into the shop. The steps stopped somewhere far behind him, but still in the room.  


His brother’s voice carried over to him, “Don’t run out on me like you did the kid! Or else I’m gonna be pissed at you too!”  


The wood creaked as he continued walking.  


Vergil felt a stab of regret at that remark. He wouldn’t run away like he did earlier in the evening. Even if it had been the right thing to do.  


The yamato was no longer in his hand. He must have dispelled it at some point. His hands were free now. The thought to push his doppel away crossed his mind, but it didn’t feel nearly as pressing as before. It wasn’t as appealing either.  


Before he could lose his courage, he reached up and hugged his doppel back. Despite being transparent, doppel’s form felt solid underneath his hands. The blue energy was warm against his skin. Clawed hands held him back.  


He heard the sound of the stove being used further in the shop.  


The pressure behind his eyes from crying so much had turned into a dull ache. He could feel a headache starting to form.  


Those same claws moved to his shoulders and gently pushed him back.  


He didn’t fight it.  


Concentrated blue energy where eyes should have been stared down at him and he stared back. With barely a flick of his hand the blue energy dissipated.  


It was just him in the room.  


He brought up a hand to wipe at his face. Wood creaked as he turned to walk down the hallway to the kitchen. The stove turned off as he walked through the doorframe. Dante was doing something, but Vergil didn’t really care to look. His eyes landed on the table. There was a box of tissues on it. He pulled out one of the chairs and grabbed one. He wiped at the remaining tear tracks and blew his nose. His headache was still present, but he felt somewhat better. Leaning back in the chair, he stared up at the ceiling.  


Nothing came to mind as he simply stared and waited. His mind was clear and his body insisted that he rest.  


Something was placed on the table followed by another. The chair across from him scrapped against the floor as it was pulled out. He kept his eyes on the ceiling.  


“So what happened between you and Nero?”  


Vergil reached up a hand and rubbed the bridge of his nose. It relieved some of the pressure.  


“We got into a fight.”  


“I could have told you that.”  


Vergil brought his gaze back down. There was Dante with a mug in one hand with the other arm leaning against the table. Another mug sat in front of him. The smell of lavender hit him. He grabbed the mug and instantly took a drink. The tea was still scorching hot, but that didn’t stop him. Half of it was gone when he put it back on the table.  


“You going to tell me what you were fighting about?”  


The mug was burning against his skin. He wrapped his other hand around it.  


“It doesn’t matter. I won’t take back what I said.”  


“Alright. Then what did the kid say that would make you leave mid-fight?”  


“Nero didn’t do anything wrong.”  


“He clearly did something.”  


Memories flashed to the surface. Being over at Nero and Kyrie’s home. How they’d invited him to spend time with them on a Savior related holiday. It had been fun. Even being around the kids had been easier than expected. They’d just eaten dinner. The kids were outside playing. Nico had just come by and was watching them. Nero, Kyrie, and himself were all speaking together in the kitchen. Kyrie had brought up the topic. She couldn’t have known what would follow.  


Vergil shook his head. He locked eyes with Dante, “It was my fault. I shouldn’t have yelled at him.”  


Dante raised an eyebrow at that.  


Vergil looked back down at the tea remaining in his mug. The burning had cooled somewhat but was still hot against his palms.  


_‘Would you like to come back next year?’_  


A year was too long. He didn’t want to make any promises he couldn’t keep. Nero hadn’t taken his response well. Each sentence they said kept escalating both of them until they were yelling at each other. That roiling thunder thrummed underneath his skin at the time. Nero was in the middle of saying something, and Vergil could feel his control slipping. If he stayed any longer there was no telling what he would say to his son.  


Vergil reached within himself and ground time to a halt. Everything around him paused. He moved past Nero. Up righted the chair his son had pushed over when he stood. Walked past the concerned and worried Kyrie as she looked between the space where Nero and him had been fighting. Opened the front door and closed it behind him. It wasn’t until he was a couple blocks away from the house that he let time resume around him.  


Once he’d felt he was in control did he allow himself to go back to that house. It hadn’t ended well.  


Dante moved and he turned his eyes to him. His brother sat up straight. Dante spoke as he brought his mug to his lips, “You might as well tell me what you were fighting about. Because you’re going to make up with him tomorrow.”  


Vergil bristled, “You’re mighty confident that it will get resolved so quickly.”  


Dante set down his cup.  


“I’m going to go see them tomorrow and since you’re my ride you’re going to have to see Nero when we get there.” That smug look on his face translated into his words, “Unless you want to give me the yamato and I’ll go by myself.”  


Vergil narrowed his eyes at him. Like he would ever willingly give his brother the sword. He knew that. That smug look didn’t leave his brother’s face.  


Irritated, Vergil replied, “They asked if I would come back next year. I told them to not count on it.”  


Dante’s eyebrows scrunched together, “Was it really that bad?”  


“No. I had fun.”  


“Then what’s the issue? You don’t want to have fun?”  


Vergil downed the rest of the tea in his mug. It was lukewarm.  


“I don’t want to make a promise I can’t keep.”  


“It’s a year from now, bro. If you want to be there you’ll show up.”  


Vergil leaned forward, “A lot can change in a year, Dante.”  


They stared each other down.  


Dante knocked back the rest of his tea and set it off to the side. He leaned forward too.  


“Vergil, this is going to be the first year where I can go see Nero and his family the next day after their little holiday.” He gestured with one hand, “Every year I say I’m going to make it on time next year. And every year, on this month, I get flooded with demons running rampant everywhere all the way to New Year’s. So the only time I would get to see them would be next month.” He slouched against his palms, “That doesn’t stop me from trying to make it.”  


Vergil leaned back in his chair, “How simple minded of you.”  


Dante shrugged, “It works for me. Maybe it’ll work for you.”  


The future was uncertain. He didn’t know what he would be doing a few months from now.  


Anything could happen.  


_I want to see my son again._  


The thought echoed through his mind. Was it really that simple?  


A scrape against the floor sounded across from him and the empty cup was taken out of his hands. He stared down where it had been. Running water and metal clinked over at the counter. It felt wrong to tell them that he would be there next year. He wanted to be there. Being around the family Nero had created himself was inspiring. They’d welcomed him in with no hesitation.  


It had felt normal.  


He wanted to be a part of that.  


A hand on his shoulder made him jump at the contact. He looked up to his brother beside him. Dante gave him a big smile.  


“I’m going to call Nero and tell him you’ll be there tomorrow. You two are going to work this out.” The hand left his shoulder and his brother left the room. Vergil sat there for a moment and then stood from his seat. The floor scrapped loudly as he pushed in his chair. His steps filled the room. He looked down in the kitchen sink where there were two mugs, an empty pot, and a tea kettle. The inside of the kettle revealed no lavender buds inside the tea strainer. Everything had been rinsed out. The smallest bit of tension left him. At least this wouldn’t be a huge mess to deal with.  


Vergil grabbed the sponge left next to the faucet and turned on the water. As he grabbed the dish soap and went to work he could hear Dante down the hall talking on the old phone.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to give Vergil as much “He’s a little confused, but he’s got the right spirit” energy. He’s trying to change, and that means he’s gonna make some mistakes along the way. He’ll get there eventually. 
> 
> Leave a comment if ya want to. I’ll read and appreciate ‘em.  
> Happy Holidays and New Year's to y’all. Thank you for reading!


End file.
